Buttercup's Story
by XxTigerlilyxX
Summary: Buttercup's story about kithood to adultcathood, and the bond he forms with Katniss.


Buttercup's Story

**A/N: Story came to me randomly, just had to get it down. Hope you enjoyed it :D Reviews?**

Hello, I'm Buttercup, the most inquisitive, courageous cat you'd ever see. Don't get in my way otherwise I'll scratch your fur out!

I was born in a litter of four, where my mother protected us against the harsh dangers of the world, guided and showed us things essential to our survival. We learnt to hunt, to stalk prey, how to slink off unnoticed into the wide forest beyond our cozy home where the humans looked after us, to gain some solitude and peace.

Then came the fire, burning so strong and hot we had to flee, to escape. We all split into different directions, me and my siblings, and I bolted in the general direction of the forest, ears arched back, eyes alight and hissing, trying to outrun the fearsome red hot flames.

I stumbled into a bit of forest I'd never seen before, it smelt different, fresher, a long way from home. But I was too tired to care, I found a nice mossy spot and drank in the calmness of sleep.

I was attacked. Wild goose attacked me, their beaks sharp and pointed, I hissed and snarled. Who did they think they were? Attacking me, out of all cats! I pounced on them, and scratched them and took away an unflattering amount of feathers, but I left the fight with severe scratches and one long wound down my neck.

And that was when a human I'd never seen before, suddenly appeared out of nowhere, a sharp stick pointing at me, I knew if the human let go I'd be in trouble, and instantly puffed up my fur in self defense, I hissed at the pain that brought to my injuries.

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"Are you sure that's worth the meat?" Said Gale, appearing beside Katniss, who lowered her bow to get a better view of the prey.

"No, it's a bit stringy but it'll have to do." Said Katniss, prepared to shoot, but suddenly a siren echoed through the woods.

Gale and Katniss looked at each other, "Peacekeepers." She whispered, unloading her bow.

"What about our prey?"

"I'll take it home to kill and gut there."

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A sudden pair of cold cold hands grasped my fur, and I snarled in response. But before I knew it, I was shoved into a cold hard sack of some sort, and bumping on somebody's back. It was stuffy and cramped, and I rubbed against my own blood numerous times along the journey.

Just when I was finally adjusting, and feeling sleep's warm paws come to send me to a place without pain, someone dumped me out onto a cold hard floor.

There was an instantly burst of noise, as I took in the three figures before me.

The human that tried to shoot me – there was a raging scent familiar to the fire of last night about her.

A smaller human with the scent of flowers and plants on her body.

A larger human with the scent of old age and weariness hanging off her.

I felt a cold metal blade press against the back of my throat, suddenly the smaller human gave a loud squeal and before I knew it, her warm hands were on my fur, her blood dripping down my flank as she accepted the blow for me.

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"Prim, what are you doing?" Called Katniss in exasperation, watching her sister fling her arms around that ugly cat.

"You can't kill it." Prim said defensively, "Poor thing's hurt, and it probably hasn't had a meal in a long time. Mother, can we keep it?"

Prim's irresistible blue eyes shot towards her mother, who sighed and gave in.

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So they adopted me of sorts, gave me a sheltered bed of moss near the fireplace, fed me occasional scraps of food.

I grew used to them, the three humans, especially the younger one, who sat with me on cold winter nights, rubbing my fur warm and whispering things in my ear. Kind of reminds me of when our mother would mew stories into our ears as we huddled near her belly after suckling.

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There's an explosion. Loud and ringing throughout the neighbourhood.

Several hours before it happened I knew something was wrong, I was snarling and growling but no one knew what I meant.

Now they did.

Things rained down from the sky, more fearsome then anything I'd ever experienced. More fearsome then the fire that drove me, my mother and my siblings apart.

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The ground speeds by in a mushy blur, we're moving, always moving. Towards a place where trees don't exist.

I don't like it, but it's Prim's comforting hands and whispers that keep me going.

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It's squishy here, with lots of humans. They're everywhere, too much. I can barely distinguish their smells apart, but I don't try. The only scent I bother to remember are Prim's, adult human and the boy human who was with the girl human that tried to kill me for lunch.

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It all speeds by in a blur, the next few years of my life. Humans are moving, always constantly moving. Prim's scent is changing, gaining a more sharp salty taste of bitterness then her original pleasant sweet one. She is changing too, growing bigger, taller, I don't see her as often, and when I try to follow her, she chucks a bit of string to the opposite side of the room, and after I catch it through the gaps of my claws, she's gone, the door shuts.

I can still sense her scent of sadness, lingering in the air.

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A lot of time passes, things happen in a blur. I remember one morning, I was huddled up around the curve of Prim's body, giving her face an occasional lick every now and then, enjoying the sound of her laughter even more than a freshly caught rat.

Suddenly there's a loud unnatural sound tinkling through the air, Prim stiffens, I can feel something emitting from her body.

I meow drastically to get her attention as she jumps up and starts shoving things into a white box with a red cross on it.

"Not now Buttercup! I've got to go, I'll come back." She cries, the feel of her hands on my fur stays long after she's gone.

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I haven't seen her for a while.

I catch prey, I sink my teeth into the soft flesh and feed, I drink water from streams and growl at a piece of string that Prim used to chuck to the opposite side of the room for me to catch.

I haven't seen her for a while.

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She sits there, sadness omitting from her body. It smells funny, different, especially her skin, like a whole lot of other human's skins mixed together into hers.

But the firey smell that I detected from her at first sight is gone, put out by the musty smell of ashes, I meow at her, and almost instantly she screams and chucks something at me.

A pillow.

I dodge it and snarl.

The girl cries some more, and shouts insane things, before breaking down. I watch her, watch her cry and weep, the smell of sadness and insanity ripples from her.

I remember a story my mother told me as a kit, a story about one of the neighbourhood house cats who got tortured so much by a gang of humans – she chased her own tail like a dog's and grew mad.

I will not let this human grow that way.

For Prim, for my deceased owner.

I will not let one of Prim's litter mates meet the same end.

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I pad around the sheets of her bed, finding a good spot to settle down. But I keep awake and snarl at everything that comes close.

I will protect her. I will fight with her. I will save Katniss.

For Prim.


End file.
